Happily 'Family' After
by Pathomorph
Summary: When a simple hunt goes awry Cas, Sam and Bobby end up getting 'man-handled' by some sort of sludge. Now Dean finds himself guardian of the three after they've been reverted into five year old children. Crack/Fluff-fic.
1. Chapter One: Not according to plan

_Happily 'Family' After._

_Disclaimer_: Kripke own everything Supernatural related, I am merely playing in his sandbox.

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><p><em>Chapter One:<em> Not according to plan.

_" He's got a rolled cigarette, hanging out his mouth he's a cowboy kid._

_Yeah he found a six shooter gun._

_In his dads closet hidden in a box of fun things, and I don't even know what._

_But he's coming for you, yeah he's coming for you ."_-Pumped Up Kicks.

The plan had been easy enough '_sounding.'_ Cas would angel-mojo them inside, Sam, Dean and Bobby would then kick ass while Castiel gathered information during their distraction. Easy enough plan, like he said. So naturally when they got inside and it was an ambush and they'd ended up side by side tied to water pipes while Castiel stood helplessly in a ring of holy fire, why none of them had been expecting this was the question on everyone's lips.

"Of course," Sam snapped tetchily, head flopping back against the water pipe behind him with a loud _'thwunk.' _

Dean blinked, sweat stinging his eyes. Of all of them, Dean was the furthest away from the oversize swimming pool roiling and bubbling and filled to the brim with an opaque substance that smelled suspiciously like strawberry even from where he sat. He couldn't even imagine how poor Cas felt, who stood awkwardly within the confines of holy fire not three inches away from said goo.

"What?" Dean slurred wearily, head still fuzzy from being forced to eat cement until he was sure his face was nothing more than a bloody smear on the floor.

"I said of course. Of course t_his_ would happen on our first job with Castiel back. You're like a walking disaster magnet." The younger hunter hissed, looking as though he wanted to flail if not for the restraining ropes. Dean tried to scowl at him, which proved awkward and painful from his position.

"_Hey!_ Pot, Kettle." he huffed out indignantly before another upsurge of pain clouded over his vision, breath burning in his throat.

"Would you both shut up? With the amount you both whine like a bunch'a little girls I'm surprised you actually get _any_ hunting done." Bobby barked out from somewhere between the two brothers, ending any comeback that Sam might have had. Dean couldn't help but feel a little victorious. Until he realised he'd just been called a little girl and then he broke into what he swore was a scowl but looked more like a pout.

Over the ominous '_glub-glubbing'_ of the goop churning and rolling around in the pool like it was a live, Sam's muttered '_he started it_' was enough to break the short silence.

"You were the one that kicked open the door!" Dean found himself gritting out, wincing as the action caused his side to flare with pain. It was then he remembered that he had been all but _milled_ into the flooring by an oversized foot and he possibly had broken ribs, so aggravating them probably wasn't a good idea.

"Dean… are you okay?" Sam suddenly didn't sound so snarky.

"I'm fine," the older Winchester wheezed obstinately.

"This isn't... isn't the worse that's happened to me, Sammy," But _wow_, he_ really_ shouldn't have tried a sentence because that fucking hurt and now every breath he unwilling took felt like fire to his throat and lungs and, just, _oh god the pain._ If it wouldn't have caused him more pain, Dean might have groaned his discomfort.

"Dean! Can you just…_ not_ act like a fucking hero for five seconds? No wait, silly me, I should've known that a simple 'having your body _compressed_ against solid cement _repeatedly' _wouldn't stop you from being a complete ass," Sam spat with no real venom, concern lacing the words despite how harsh they might have sounded. Dean couldn't help but grin, fighting down the chuckle that threatened to bubble over.

"Bitch." He mumbled. Smiling wider when he heard a soft, almost wobbly.

"Jerk."

"As much as I _hate_ to interrupt the love-fest, ladies, it might interest you to know that the pool is over bubbling and that white sludge is heading right at us!" All four heads snapped to where, surely enough, that disgusting roiling, wiggling mass of slop was jiggling it's way over towards them.

"On a high note, at least the demons are gone, right?" Dean tried to brighten the mood. Only it didn't work because he could almost _feel _the glares being shot his way. All three hunters renewed their violent struggles against the ropes, Dean needing to bite down on his lip to contain the sounds of pain he knew he would be making giving the choice. Joy slowly began to unfurl one peel at a time as the ropes compressing Dean's movements began to give, little by little.

"What the fu_- argh!_ Dean. _Dean!_ It's touching me! Oh god it's _touching_ me in ways I am not comfortable with." Sam's panicked yelp echoed through the building not seconds later. For a moment there was awkward silence and then a hesitant.

"Touching you? Like.." Bobby sounded half curious half horrified.

"Like there is a glob of it worming up my legs and… it's _in _my _pants!_ Oh God _it's in my pants_. Guys, help! _Rape!"_ Sam's voice got higher with every word, ending in a squeals that could have put a little girl to shame.

"Oh _balls_." Bobby hissed, jerking in vain against his robes.

"Dean, please tell me you have a little leeway over there." The older grumbled, sounding a little off-key. Dean realised with a jolt that the glue like sludge had already extended across the floor and made it to Bobby. One harsh tug that had tears springing to his eyes, and Dean's left hand was free, working frantically to free the other.

"…Dean. I also find the nature in which this viscous liquid is touching me… uncomfortable." Castiel's voice caused Dean to freeze for a moment, mind struggling _not_ to come up with images of the angel being molested by flubber.

"Hang on just a bit longer guys." He panted, almost free when he spotted a tendril of the milky goo sliding across the floor towards him. Jerking his foot out of reach as the 'thing'- _yes it was now officially a thing because liquids did not move like the where actually alive!- _arched up off the ground and extended towards his boot.

"Easy for you to say." Sam squeaked breathily just as Dean was shrugging out of his ropes, snatching up his fallen knife. Leaping out of range, the older Winchester sidled along the back wall and carefully cut the binding holding Bobby, and then Sam who sprang up and with almost hysterical movements began tearing at his clothes. Last was Cas, who was still trapped within the ring of holy fire, while a large amount of the gunk wiggled and wormed under the angels clothing as he struggled. Shucking out of his jacket, Dean laid it over the flames and beat at it with his foot until Cas was able to hastily step through. After managing to fight off the last of the goo clinging to them with surprising tenacity, they beat a hasty retreat, wisely setting the warehouse on fire before leaving.

No one said a _damned_ word as the car floored towards their hotel, jumping over ever bump in the road and dipping into every pothole. Dean was fighting off waves of pain, which periodically licked flames up over his ribs by the time they got there. Sam flew out of the passenger side and into the room without a word. Bobby tore ass out of the back seat and into the room next to theirs. Almost in complete synch, Dean heard shower pipes screech to life and smirked as he limped into the room with a little help from Cas. Once on the bed, the angel laid a hand over the hunter's chest and just like that the pain was gone. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Dean flopped against the bed limply, arm thrown over his eyes while Cas stood by the bed awaiting further orders. Since his _'trip to the dark side'_ the poor angel had been hanging off Dean's every word, guilt apparent in his every action. Sighing, Dean peeled the arm away from his eyes and blinked at ex-God.

"You should go shower." He stated. Normally this request would have been met with confused resistance. The ever obligatory _'But I do not require bathing'_ all but drilled into Dean's very being. However Cas merely nodded mutely before leaving the room in a flurry of flapping wings. The shower started in the vacant room above theirs just as Dean was rolling over to bury his face in the cheap hotel pillow. Slowly relaxing against the thin mattress and pokey springs beneath, Dean settled down with the intention of catching a few z's while the others scrubbed themselves pink for a few hours. He was just starting to drift when three perfectly simultaneous cries of dismay had him sitting up and blindly fumbling for his gun. Rushing to the bathroom, Dean spared a moment to knock before he charged in.

"Sammy, are you okay in there?"

There was no response, only the barest of sniffled whimpers from within. Gripping his gun, Dean backed up, lifted a foot and kicked open the door, spinning into the room with a flourish.

"_Aaah!"_ Came a high pitch screech from the shower.

"_Argh!"_ Was Dean's _oh so witty_ response, green eyes wide and zeroed in on the recoiling child currently huddled in the very corner of the shower, big brown eyes watery and terrified as they stared at Dean. Two more terrified wails drew Dean's attention. One from next door and one from the room above. Bobby and Cas. Oh. _Oh_ shit

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><p>Three hours, a trio of sniffling, trembling miserable looking children and a multitude of failed angel<em> and<em> demon summons later, Dean was still blinking almost angrily at the tiny people who refused to either disappear like a bad dream or illusion or revert back into their proper selves. Fives year old Sammy sneezed, floppy brown hair still slightly damp under the cocoon of towelling he was wrapped up in. Dean really needed to get these kids some clothes. However in order to _buy_ them clothes, he needed to take them shopping, which involved them having clothes that fit to begin with, which defeated the purpose of him needing to go shopping in the first place, and _argh,_ it was all very frustrating. Chewing his lip, Dean paced the room, fingers laced behind his head in mock concentration, green eyes narrowed on the tiny sets of eyes following his every move curiously. Little Castiel yawned widely, blue orbs drooping as he leaned against Sam's shoulder, fatigue beginning to show on his features. Shit. Dean couldn't very well let them sleep in wet towelling, nor did he want them to have to sleep nude.

Mumbling, Dean dived into his and Sam's rucksacks, pulling out shirts and tossing them all onto the bed. Castiel was picking idly at one of Sammy's pink polo's while Sam looked at the bundles of items seemingly uncomprehendingly. Bobby just seemed to sit there and not really care. Taking a deep breath, the hunter crossed the room with determination and began to riffling through the mount of clothing; holding up each one to the boys one at a time. Bobby, with his slightly bigger build and soft puppy fat, ended up drowning in one of Sam's button up t's looking down at the arms which sagged pitifully on the ground. Dean very carefully rolled them up to that the little guy should see his hands, before nodding and tackling Bobby into bed, under the blankets. Apparently, even at five, Bobby Singer was disagreeable by nature.

"Brat" He growled affectionately.

Sam and Castiel where roughly about the same size, but where Sam was all gangly limbs and long legs, Cas was slightly softer looking, less ungainly and more proportioned. Unlike Bobby who had just sat there and let Dean choose what to wrestle onto the tiny child, Sam held up a blue shirt of Dean's hopefully as the older approached. Dean helped Sam get his arms into the right holes before rolling up the sleeves and helping the child crawl under the blanket to curl against the other boy already tucked in. Cas was last, and when Dean approached to dress him, his head popped out of the nest of linen much like that of a tortoise, watching the hunter shuffle through the clothes. After all three of the boys where finally dressed, somewhat, and tucked away safely in bed, Dean turned out the lights, grabbed a six pack from the fridge and headed out to the impala for a little impromptu drinking.

Even with a beer in hand, the Impala still slightly warm and comfortable against his back and the stars twinkling above, Dean felt lost. Everyone he knew that could help him out of this mess was in the room, helpless and counting on him to figure out how to fix this. Fighting down a wave of hysteria, the Winchester took a large mouthful of his beer. Then another and another. By the time Dean finally did retire to the hotel room he was past drunk and as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light.

_Chapter End. _

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><p><em>So, let me know if you liked it or not. I have a lot of idea with this one. Can't wait to hear all your feedback.<em>


	2. Chapter Two: Burning

_A Special thanks to IllyriaSaxon for the review. It made my day. Hopefully this was worth the wait._

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><p>Chapter Two: <em>Burning down the hous- er hotel.<em>

_"Poor old Jim's white as a ghost_  
><em> He's found the answer that we lost<em>  
><em> We're all weeping now, weeping because<em>  
><em> There ain't nothing we can do to protect you"- O' Children. <em>

It was official. Dean Winchester had lost the plot. Felling utterly ridiculous, the hunter gave a defeated sigh and tossed the burning sprig of sage into the trashcan. On the bed, three giggling five year olds watched as Dean set things on fire, tossed salt, wafted incense and even at one point did a dance meant to be all _consecrated _and_ spiritual_ but looked more like the Funky Chicken mixed with Walk like an Egyptian. Even his angel summons failed, blowing up in his face with happy enthusiasm and a horrible stink that caused them to flee the room for several hours. It was probably the angelic way of saying _'Fuck you, Winchester_.'

Dean felt utterly drained. He had spent the better half of the night doing every test he knew of on the kids. While it was nice to know they weren't any kind of demon or monster, it was _not_ helpful to know not only were they five years old physically they were also five years old _mentally_. On a whole? Completely incapable of fending for themselves, let alone helping Dean figure out how to fix them.

"Oh come on!" Dean snapped irritably at the empty room now clouded with a green fog that smelled awfully of rotten egg. Another angel summons failed.

"You'd_ think_ the angels would care just a _bit _that one of their own has been turned into helpless child!" Ranted the Winchester with a fist raised towards the roof, as if this act of '_fuck you back, Angels'_ would be enough to provoke one into _magically_ appearing.

At which point his lighter vanished from the table only to reappear in the hands of a inquisitive looking Castiel. Dean hastily snatched it away before the angel could burn himself… or anyone else for that matter.

"Well. Maybe not _entirely_ helpless." Dean remedied, still frowning. Huffing impatiently, he took a sip of his beer before returning to the laptop, mountain of splayed books and prints outs scattered over the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam giggling madly, eyes darting from Dean to something in the corner.

"I'm glad you're amused." He muttered, chugging the rest of his beer before returning to his Mount Everest of research, picking idly through the paper and pages and scattered incense and other miscellaneous items strew about the table. The giggling behind him abruptly quieted into huffed hiccups of laughter. Frowning, the hunter raised his head warily, nose flaring at the smell of… smoke? _Oh shit._ Turning around so fast he nearly tipped the chair, Dean was met with the immediate sight of the trashcan licking flames at the cheap curtains that dangled over it, quickly lighting anything in its path.

"Son of a _bitch!"_ He yelped, hurling himself out of the chair and towards the kids. With Cas on his shoulders, gripping at Dean's head looking remotely like a terrified kitten, a _'Weeee-ing' _Sam under one arm and a wriggling Bobby under the other, Dean kicked open the hotel door and rushed them outside. After setting them carefully on the hood of the Impala, Dean tore back into the room, crab-walked past the blazing inferno and into the bathroom. Grabbing the bucket from under the sink, Dean tipped out the cleaning products it held and hastily filled it with water, leaving the tap running as he bolted back to the burning left side of the room. In the doorway stood Sam and Bobby, both looking at the fire curiously. Almost like they wished for a bag of marshmallows and not looking like they should be running away from their _potential deaths!_

"Back on the car. _Now!"_ He snapped angrily. The children scattered looking wide eyed and trembly-lipped. He just knew he'd be regretting that later.

It took a full ten minutes to get the blaze under control and another five to extinguish it completely at which point half the room had been scorched with a layer of black. Biting his lip, Dean looked around guiltily. There was no way he could pay for this damage._ Shit_… pulling a runner with three practically-toddlers wasn't a good idea but what else could he do? Swearing, Dean hurried around the room packing up their things, the research and the materials and carted it all outside, tossing it into the boot of the Impala. When done, he left the key in the bowl by the door, locked it on his way out and then realised… Sam and Bobby were nowhere in sight.

Cas of course was sitting exactly were Dean had left him. Luminescent eyes wide and unblinking. After panicking for half an hour, he found the other two. Following the soft sounds of sniffling, Dean found them camped out behind a dumpster, Sam with eyes wet with tears and looking heart broken curls up to a ruffled looking Bobby. The sight tugged at Dean's heart strings, who had always been a sucker for children.

"I'm sorry guys. I just didn't want you to get hurt." He crouched, reaching out to gently ruffle three heads of hair.

"Let's get you guys some clothes and then some grub?" He offered coaxingly, relieved when they, somewhat hesitantly, stepped towards him. Swinging Sam up onto his shoulder's this time, as Cas seemed to have an issue with heights weirdly enough, Dean then settled the angel on his right hip and Bobby seemed content with just holding onto Dean's hand as he walked them back to the car. With Cas settled in and belted, Sam was next, who shimmed out of Dean's reach.

"I want to sit in the front!" Little Sammy pouted up at Dean; dark curling lash's hooded over pleading puppy brown eyes. The hunter gulped loudly. He hadn't been able to say _'no'_ to Sam the first time he was five, how the hell was he meant to do it now?

"You're not big enough to sit upfront." Bobby growled looking like he might actually resort to blows, before Dean could say anything, assuming finger pointed at Sammy who glowered. Cas, who sat to the far left quietly, was happily playing with the hemming of the over-sized shirt he was adorning not saying anything. Trust the angel to be the well behaved one.

They really didn't have time for this.

"Both of you get in the back now or no pancakes for breakfast!" He mock threatened. It was almost comical the way the two shared horrified looks before scrambling into the backseat, belting themselves in. Smirking, Dean closed the backdoor behind them and climbed in behind the wheel, peeling the car out of the lot in a wave of flying asphalt. They hadn't been on the road more than ten minutes before the arguing started_. Again._

"Y'er poopy head!" grumbled tiny Sam from the backseat, arms folded crossly over his chest. Dean's left eye twitched dangerously.

"Idjit." Was Bobby's immediate rebuttal, Sam looked utterly aggrieved though clearly having no understanding what the word meant The hunter's hands tightened on the steering wheel to the point his knuckles looked like they might burst through the skin there.

"Am not!" Sam squeaked.

"Stop it you two." Dean sighed, green eyes rolling.

"Are too." Bobby growled.

"Oi, Stop it." The hunter tried again.

"Am _not!" _Sam was getting close to screaming now, a horrible pitchy noise that grated at Dean's ear drums.

"I'm warning you." Dean could almost feel the vein in his forehead throbbing.

"Are_ too." _Apparently Bobby didn't know when to quit.

"_Don't make me come back there!"_ Dean all but roared, slamming his hand against the steering wheel for emphases. The boys went _very_ quiet very fast and for a moment Dean felt a sense of victory. That was until he saw Sam's lip start to quiver and Bobby's halfhearted attempt at consoling Sam, patting the shorter boy on the shoulder awkwardly. _Oh bloody hell_. First it was sniffled little miserable hiccups, then tiny whimpers which ended up all out window rattling wails.

Banging his head against the steering wheel, Dean did a little prayer that should he survive this somehow he truly hoped his sanity was still _somewhat_ intact. As if someone had answered his prayers, Dean found what he'd been looking for just a couple of miles down the road. A clothes drop. A shining beacon that proved, _yes_, there was a god. Or angels that still actually helped out now and again. Pulling the car up behind the bin, Dean climbed out, thankful it was still mostly dark despite the early hours of morning it was. Looking around shiftily, Dean stuck to the shadows as he approached the dumpster before grabbing two random bags of bundled up clothes and hightailing it back to the car. Tossing them into the passenger side Dean climbed in, ignoring the dejected cries coming from the backseat altogether.

Dean ended up finding an alternate hotel for them to stay at two miles away, conveniently across the road from a shopping complex the size of a small town. By the time he had paid for the room and driven the car up to the parking space assigned for his area the sun was well beginning to crest and the boys had quieted down. The only room the hotel had available was a single with one lone queen bed that sat taking up most of the offered space in the dingy room. But Dean wasn't complaining since he didn't intend to stay here long. With the three boys in tow like little ducklings, Dean carried the bags of clothes he had _'liberated'_ inside and kicked the door shut behind him. Slitting open the bags, Dean scattered the items across the bed with a speculative frown on his face. Most of it was too big, too small, too stained or torn to be considered plausible outfits for the three five year olds to wear, particularly in public. However there were a few items of interest.

Bobby ended up in white polo, _Bob the builder_ overalls and a little pair of black boots looking like he wanted to punch Dean in the throat with a spoon. Dean grinned sadistically _What?_ It was funny. If Bobby ever got to be his normal self he would probably flay Dean for it, but it _was_ funny. Sam happily allowed Dean to dress him in a _Barney the Dinosaur_ turtle neck and some rather cute looking jeans topped with sandals carefully strapped in place.

Now for the angel. After a moment of helpless rummaging Dean still couldn't find a_ damned_ thing that fit Cas. Everything was either too small or too big. Nothing would fucking fit! Well the Dora pink princess dress might, but there was no_ way_ Dean would actually… _weeeeell _it _would _only be temporary_. _Brow twitching madly, Dean slipped the dress over Castiel's head, careful not to catch any of the buttons on the child's dark silken curls. Ironically the pink monstrosity, for all its frills and sparkles and bows, had two tiny wing prints on the back. Dean almost felt it was fate. He just hoped _Cas _thought so too because if not the hunter was in a lot of trouble when the angel was back to normal.

After standing there blinking owlishly up at Dean for a while Cas cocked his head to the left as if to say_ 'well am I done?_' or maybe_ 'what do you think?'_ Then with a tug at the dresses hem, the angel did a small spiral and nodded his approval of the outfit, padding off to show it to the other boys.

"We're having words about this when you are normal sized again, you here me." Dean frowned at the small child showing off his pretty dress to Bobby and Sam who were looking dubiously at Castiel and his pink-ness. Well, if anyone could pull off cross-dressing it was Cas. The mental image of a normal sized Cas decked out in something similar attacked Dean's brain with a ferocity that had him fleeing the room in horror. As if on cue, the three five year olds trotted after him.

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><p>Dean felt absolutely<em> no<em> guilt in ordering take-away breakfasts for the adorable trio behind him that were causing more attention than he was comfortable with. At one point the hunter had even waved a plastic spork threateningly at an overly friendly female who had gotten a little too close to Sam. With the child huddled to his side looking at the woman like she was evil incarnate, Dean felt he was more than justified to a little threatening. After all, evil was _everywhere _now days! She could have been a demon. Well, she_ couldn't _have been after Dean had muttered a soft '_Christo'_ at her and nothing happened. But really, you just never knew anymore. By the time they had walked back to the hotel room, Dean was near on having seizures of panic and asphyxiated from all but screaming '_Christo_' at everyone that had gotten to close.

It wasn't until much later that Dean realised all the female advances made at him he had all but snarled away in a protective haze. There was that one leggy blond with a smile that promised pain and a body that screamed pleasure. He nearly cried

"'m hungry, Dean." Sammy whined as they entered the hotel room feet scuffing as he sulked towards the table.

" Same here." Bobby stomped after him, looking so thoroughly put out by everything and one that Dean almost forgot that this wasn't the regular Bobby. Rolling his eyes, Dean headed in after them, bag of food held in one hand while Cas clung to the other.

"Alright food is coming, everyone grab a chair." He instructed as he began handing out the assigned meals after a series of 'I want that one.' Not that it mattered. Dean had ordered all three pancakes after Cas had taken one look at the menu and looked about ready to cry, clearly having no idea what he was looking at. With only three available seats. Dean carefully lifted Castiel onto the last and headed over to the bed while the kids ate.

"_Hey!_ How come you ain't eating Dean?" Sam's indignant pout cut through the room and Dean's concentration. Dean didn't even bother looking up from his dad's journal which he had open at a particular passage of interest.

"Not hungry." He mumbled, half distracted.

"I'll share mine with you Dean." Sam chirped out, happily waving around a pancake piece in his plastic fork, no doubt flicking cherry syrup everywhere.

"Maybe later, buddy." Dean flapped a dismissive hand toward his brother ignoring the angry grumbles from the table.

Albeit begrudgingly, the Winchester started laying out ingredients for the_ only_ summons he hadn't yet tried. It went against everything Dean believed in. Every fiber of his being rebelled against the idea as he threw the last item into the bowl with a muttered incantation. Dean was sure he was going to regret this.

The dish let out a soft '_bang' _and a waft of bluish smoke that Dean waved away with his hand. Had it worked?

"You called." An exasperated voice drawled from Dean's left, smoky and teasing but dangerous none the less, laced with an English accent.

Dean sighed; both annoyed and relieved the summoning worked. Turning to face the demon leaning languidly against the far wall decked out all in black and looking too sinful for words, the hunter frowned, his emerald eyes glittering with detestation

"Crowley." He growled with enough venom in that one word to wipe out a small nation.

"You know it's really rather rude to summon someone who is in the middle of _trying_ to rule hell." Crowley swayed forwards on the balls of his feet, seeming to glide as opposed to Dean's swagger. Instinctively, Dean backed up as the slightly taller drifted towards him, furious when he felt his back hit a wall. Why the hell was he letting Crowley corner him. Green eyes flashing, Dean sucked in a breath sharply through his nose, preparing for the words there were sure to condemn him to an eternity of hellfire and torture. _Again._

"I want to cut a deal."

_End Chapter_

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><p><em>Yeeaah, aren't cliff hangs just a bitch? Anyway, let me know what you think, leave a little love and inspiration for me and I'll see you guy's next chapter. <em>


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